


Peach Fuzz & Other Stories

by inkshaming



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Fluff, M/M, More characters to be added later, Slice of Life, all the endings are happy I promise, because this fandom needs things to be happy, canon-verse, modern!AU, more tags to be added later
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-19
Updated: 2017-03-11
Packaged: 2018-04-09 12:28:14
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 11,748
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4348802
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/inkshaming/pseuds/inkshaming
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A collection of one-shots and drabbles for all your Eren/Levi fluff needs. More to follow.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Echoes

**Author's Note:**

> If you enjoy these, be sure to check out my other works, including my longer one-shots, completed multichaps, and consistently-updated works in progress! :D I'd love to hear from you!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Canon-verse where Levi can play piano... And does.

There’s a piano in the corner of the basement.

Eren doesn’t think anyone even knows it’s there. No one ever talks about it. No one ever touches it – except that one time, when Eren first found it. Dust had risen in ghost-like curls as he slid the blanket back over the smooth mahogany; the ebony and ivory had been cool beneath his fingertips.

The solitary note that had hung in the air after he’d gathered up the courage to press one of the keys shimmered in and out of existence like a falling star.

He didn’t touch it again. There was something… mysterious about the instrument. Something sacred. In it, Eren could feel a longing for something he could never satisfy. Was this what it was like to be starving? The instrument made him hunger for something he could never consume.

He isn’t capable of bringing to life the melodies that echoed through his mind every night – no one is.

The thought makes his chest ache.

*

There’s a piano in the corner of the basement.

The memory of it makes Levi’s fingers itch. He hasn’t been down there in weeks – not since a certain someone had moved in – and the music flying around his head is pulling at his heartstrings, begging for release.

“Hanji,” Levi murmurs, not looking up from the pile of reports at his desk. An idea forms in the back of his mind as he speaks. “Can you supervise Eren’s training today? Just the basics, no transformations... I have something I need to get done.” He taps his pen on the stack of papers, as if to prove his point.

“Of course!” Hanji replies, nodding eagerly. Levi could already see them churning mentally through possible exercises and activities that they could use to further their studies. He winces, feeling guilty at whatever hell he may have just subjected Eren to, but…

…if it meant returning to the basement, it’d be worth it.

When Hanji finishes with their reports and leaves to go find Eren, Levi struggles to keep the smile from his face.

*

There are pros and cons to having Hanji run his training, Eren realizes.

It could been worse – it could be Levi.

And yet… training with Hanji comes with its own set of hazards, this time arising in the form of a new 3DMG obstacle course that is, quite frankly, terrifying. 

He doesn’t even last half the course.

A titan-dummy launches itself at Eren from out of nowhere, propelled by rockets lovingly prepared by the mad scientist who watches in glee-filled horror as Eren crashes and falls. He lands in a heap in some bushes just off the course; the sky dances headily above him.

“Hmm,” Hanji mutters, leaning over to examine the gash on Eren’s thigh. “That doesn’t look too good. Sorry about that.”

“It’s fine,” Eren huffs. The landing left him winded. “It’ll heal soon enough. I can keep at it.”

“I don’t think so,” Hanji replies, helping the boy to his feet. Eren stands gingerly. “You should change out of those – give yourself time to recover before we get back to training. You deserve a break.”

“…Alright.”

*

The wound stings with every step as Eren trudges to the basement, cursing inwardly for the umpteenth time about his sleeping quarters. The rest of the Survey Corps had bunks close to the main hall and the training arena – he, on the other hand, had to slog all the way across the castle grounds to get to the entrance to the basement.

Not like it isn’t deserved.

But still. It’s a long walk to make when blood is dripping down his leg. _How I’m going to get down the stairs is beyond – ?_

Eren freezes.

There’s a sound wafting up from below, echoes dancing off the stone and painting the air with shades of silver and gold.

There’s a piano in the corner of the basement and Eren finds himself being drawn to it, called by the song that swells up out of the darkness, promising flight to something grounded deep within him.

*

Levi never really knew where the music came from.

All he knows is that he could never get enough of the way a melody slipped through his fingers, pouring forth to say what words never could. He would sit there and chase it, following its rise and fall, entranced by the spell the music seemed to weave as it spilled into existence and chased away the dark.

“…Levi?”

Levi whirls, the driving melody cutting off with a choke. Eren looks at him with fear etched across his face as the echoes ring and fall silent.

“I’m sorry,” Eren whispers. He clings to the spare clothing as if his life depended on them. There’s blood on his leg but the steaming had ceased. “I didn’t mean to interrupt, I just… I can leave…” 

“No,” Levi replies gently, the alarm draining from his pulse. “It’s alright. You can stay.”

He turns back as the song stirs again, falling slowly upwards from the shadows and the dust. He coaxes the melody out of the ivory, threading the tenor along through it with a gentle ebb and flow, moving breathlessly with the tide. It slips from him like a wordless poem in a language long forgotten, calling to life what he could never speak.

He pretends not to notice when he hears Eren settle behind him, feels the boy rest his head against the small of Levi’s back.

If the music filled them both, how could Levi refuse?


	2. Echoes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sweet-tooth!AU. Levi has a secret.

Eren woke to an empty bed and the sound of crunching.

“…Levi?”

Silence.

Groggy and confused, Eren flipped back the covers and slid quietly out of bed, his toes blindly feeling for his slippers. What was that sound? 

_It could be Levi_ , Eren mused, checking the clock by his bedside. 1:13 AM. Levi would definitely up at this hour - he always was. But the sound wasn’t coming from the study upstairs… it sounded like it was coming from the kitchen. Had Levi gone to investigate?

Had something happened?

“Levi!” Eren hissed.

No response.

Eren’s fingers wrapped around the handle of the baseball bat Levi kept under the bed, just in case.

When he saw the kitchen light was on, something quivered uneasily in the back of his mind. Levi hated the kitchen, _hated_ it - couldn’t cook to save his life, couldn’t stand the mess. If Levi was up at the hour, Eren always found him in their study, curled up with a book and a cup of tea - microwaved of course. There was only one possible conclusion to be made then…

That wasn’t Levi.

_“…crunch-crunch-crunch-ch-ch…”_

Eren’s knuckles were white around the bat’s aluminum handle. The sound grew louder as Eren crept past the island, carefully navigating the creaky-hardwood floor as he warily eyed the open pantry door. What if it’s some sort of animal? What then? It was far too early to chase a raccoon around the house.

 _Closer… closer…_ Eren could hear the creature clearly now, rifling furiously through plastic packaging of whatever it decided to prey upon. Levi would be pissed - he may hate the kitchen, but the pantry was his pride and joy. It’s where he kept his tea. The very thought made Eren blanch.

“Now you’ve done it,” Eren breathed, steeling himself…

“RAARGH!” Eren roared, barreling through the pantry’s open door.

“GAAH!” Levi yelped, scrabbling across his nest of empty packaging. Cookies went flying through the air as Levi looked up at Eren with wide eyes.

Eren stared. There were cookie wrappers _everywhere_ , littering the cool tiles of the pantry floor, which was dusted with a fine sprinkling of chocolate-chip cookie crumbs. Levi sat in the middle of the mess, hand trapped in the mouth of the large glass jar where Eren had stashed the cookies he had made for Armin and Mikasa the day before.

“I thought you didn’t like my baking,” Eren whispered accusingly. Mikasa and Armin had finished their platter in under an hour – it was all Eren could do to save what little he had for later. He’d thought they’d be safe from Levi, at least. Levi never ate his cookies.

“It’s not what you think,” Levi mumbled, flushing scarlet as damning evidence skittered off his cheeks.

“Of course it isn’t,” Eren chuckled, plucking a cookie for himself.

Eren wondered what a kiss would taste like with Levi’s lips sprinkled with cookie crumbs.

Smiling, he decided to investigate.


	3. Peach Fuzz

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AU where your hair changes color to match your emotions... Or at least, it's supposed to...
> 
> For the lovely [seaofteeth](http://archiveofourown.org/users/seaofteeth/pseuds/seaofteeth) \- can't wait to beta the new chapter!

The first time Eren saw him, he almost knocked the book-cart over.

And it was a good thing he didn’t, for if he had, he would’ve drawn all sorts of attention to the fact that his hair was turning very, _very_ pink.

Sure, it happened to everyone at least once, but _still._ How embarrassing.

He settled for studying the dark-haired boy through the shelves, two rows back, awed by the way all those hard lines and taut curves could merge to become someone so beautiful. And those eyes… Eren was sure even Armin couldn’t find a book with words perfect enough to describe the color.

And if Mikasa caught him with pink in his roots, he could blame it on re-shelving the romance section.

* * *

The second time Eren saw him, he was ready.

He’d had Armin find him the biggest dictionary in the entire library, and he’d spent a good two hours skimming its pages for the longest, driest, most boring words he could find and writing them on his hands – so he could spell them out if he felt a blush coming on.

Thus armed, he grabbed a pile of books from the shelving room and made a beeline towards the third floor, where he was sure to find the dark-haired boy.

And there he was, browsing the action novels, head angled to the side to better read the titles of the books as he passed. Every now and again, he’d kneel down carefully, making sure never to miss the books near the bottom.

“F-l-o-c-c-i-n-a…” Eren muttered under his breath. _Don’t turn pink, don’t you_ dare _turn pink…_

“Excuse me?”

“Woah!” Eren jumped, startled by the unexpected voice. Books went flying – Eren went sideways.

A strong hand grabbed him by the elbow, pulling him up at the last second, and Eren stared at the other boy in mute horror as he gathered himself and stood. His hair wasn’t pink, sure, but this was so much worse.

He could the brilliant color burning scarlet on his skin.

_Ground, swallow me now._

“Pneumonoultramicroscopicsilicovolcanoconiosis, huh?” the other boy asked, catching hold of Eren’s hand and reading it, the word rolling easily off his tongue. “Prepping for med-school?”

“Ah… no,” Eren muttered, carding his fingers through the hair he knew for sure would be bright red. “Creative writing, at Rose Community College. You?”

“Nothing at the moment,” the boy answered, turning away to pick up the books scattered on the floor, pausing now and again to read the back covers if something caught his eye. “You could say I’m taking a break year.”

“Must be nice,” Eren replied.

The boy looked at him with an unfathomable expression. “I suppose it has its perks,” he said finally, setting the books on the shelf with a shrug.

 _Say something, you idiot,_ Eren chided, feeling the blush crawl back across his cheeks. His mouth refused.

“A library’s a good place to be, for a writer,” the boy muttered, plucking a book from the stack and walking away. “Anyways. See you around…”

“Eren,” Eren supplied weakly.

The boy nodded. “Levi. Right. See you around, Eren.”

When Levi had gone, Eren heaved a sigh of relief, sinking back against the shelves as his knees buckled beneath him. How had he done it? Eren was sure he had turned more colors than a crayon box in a matter of moments, yet Levi…

Black as the night sky, the whole damn time.

* * *

Levi liked espionage. He was in the ‘Spy/Mystery’ section almost every week – sometimes every day – eyes trailing across the spines of the glossily-bound books with a longing that sent Eren’s heart to his throat. Eren fondly scoured the titles Levi returned, wondering at the adventures caught within the pages – wondering if Levi had chosen them for that, like Eren might’ve.

And if Eren trawled the databases, finding new novels to recommend and sticking the titles in the wrong places on the shelves, nobody said anything.

They always caught Levi’s eye.

“If you read them so quickly,” Eren finally got the courage to ask, “why not check out a few at a time?”

Levi frowned, looking away. “I just like the library,” he muttered.

When he thought Levi wasn’t looking, Eren copped a glance.

Still black. Eren was starting to think he’d never see it any other color.

Especially not for him.

* * *

It had been a long day. Too long. Eren’s aches ran bone-deep from being on his feet since 9AM that morning, and his shift wouldn’t end until 5PM… and then he’d be hitting the books again, studying for the finals that crouched dangerously in the weeks to come.

He sank wearily into one of the seats in one of the third-floor reading nooks. _Five minutes couldn’t hurt._ His eyes slipped closed.

“Sleeping on the job, Eren?”

Eren jolted, looking around for his boss, finding Levi instead, standing over him with a book in his hand and a smirk on his face, hair dark as pitch. As usual.

“You’d be sleeping too,” Eren scowled, flinging an arm over his face. _Not now. I can’t deal with Mr. I-Feel-Nothing-As-I-Take-You-Apart right now. Please._

But he stayed. “I think I sleep enough as it is,” he said wryly, marking the page and closing the book.

“Wish I could spend a year to myself,” Eren grumbled. “Must be nice.”

“…It could be better.”

“Oh come on,” Eren teased, flinging his hands back to stare at the other boy. “You lay around and read all day – that’s the life! What else do you do with all that free time?”

A peculiar look flashed across Levi’s face. “I’m at the hospital across the street,” Levi finally muttered.

Eren’s eyes widened as alarm colored his hair a pale, corn-silk yellow.

“Out-patient therapy for _this.”_

With a single, graceful move, Levi scooped down to catch the leg of his pants, lifting the hem…

…exposing the smooth metal pylon, attached to a plain, prosthetic socket just below the knee. The ankle was carbon-fiber. The foot was plastic.

Eren’s stomach hit the floor.

“Bone cancer,” Levi said evenly, tapping his ankle twice before letting the hem fall back to the floor. “In my ankle. Wasn’t responding well to treatment so they lopped it right off.”

Eren wondered if your hair changed color when you couldn’t breathe.

“I don’t need your pity,” Levi grumbled, sourly eying the crown of Eren’s head. Eren caught a few strands in his fingers. Pale blue. “I just finished my last round of chemo today. I’m cancer-free.”

“That’s so great, Levi,” Eren breathed. “I’m really happy for you. Are you going to go and celebrate?”

Levi nodded. Swallowed. Ran his fingers through the black locks at his temple. “That’s what I’m here for.”

“In a library?” Eren chuckled. “Going to check out two books this time?”

Levi almost scowled, but he caught his lip with his teeth instead. His fingers pulled harder through his hair. “…I came to see you, actually. I was hoping you would… celebrate with me.”

Eren swore his heart froze over.

And Levi laughed – actually laughed – the shock quickly erased by the smile that rose on his face like the sun. Eren caught sight of his reflection in a metal bookend.

White as snow.

“Is that a yes?” Levi chuckled, reaching out to brush pale strands from Eren’s brow with a tender look in his eyes.

“But… but, you didn’t – y-you never…”

“I did,” Levi murmured, glancing shyly back at Eren.

He raised a hand to his hairline, tugging gently, and the black locks slid forward, the wig slipping into his fingers like black feathers from the sky, revealing the pale pink peach fuzz underneath.

“Pink just wasn’t my color.”


	4. Lacking Wisdom & Secret Weapon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Modern!AU with the aftermath of a wisdom-tooth extraction (based on the OTP prompt: Who calmly asks the other if they want chips, and who screams "I'M ALWAYS A SLUT FOR DORITOS" at the top of their lungs?)
> 
> Canon-verse with a staring contest that gets a little out of hand.
> 
> Both too short to post independently, both too sweet not to post.

#### Lacking Wisdom

Ice cream, ice packs, and ibuprofen.

Eren looked back over his shoulder at Levi and sighed. If he hadn’t been so damn stubborn…

“Levi, love,” Eren murmured, grabbing the man’s hand, “come on, I need to get some gauze for your teeth. It’s over here.”

“Fuck gauze,” Levi snapped, the words slurring over his tongue. “Gauze is for babies…” He might have continued, but he suddenly seemed very enthralled with the way the anesthetic had numbed his swollen lips. 

“My point exactly,” Eren muttered.

Only babies waited this long to get their wisdom teeth out.

Five minutes later, Eren had successfully managed to herd Levi through the medicine aisle of the grocery store without making too much of a scene. Only a few more things on the list, and then they could go home in peace.

Cranberry juice, chai tea, and chicken for dinner.

“Hey, Eren,” Levi slurred as Eren wandered past the chip section in search of some snacks. "Do you think I'll be b-back to eating chips by the end of the week?" 

Eren shrugged, not looking up. "I doubt it," he offered in reply. "I was off solid foods a good ten days before I felt better... why?" Something in Levi's tone struck a strange chord and made him turn. "Do you want chips...?"

But Levi wasn’t behind him.

Levi was halfway down the aisle. The shelves on both sides were completely emptied…

…their contents piled high over a deeply-buzzed Levi Ackerman, who lay on the cool tile floor, buried beneath brightly colored plastic. As Eren watched in mute horror, Levi began to wave around, carving angel’s wings into the fallen mess.

“I’M ALWAYS A SLUT FOR DORITOS!!!” he bellowed.

Eren would have a hand-print etched scarlet on his forehead for the next three days.

* * *

#### Secret Weapon

“Hey, Corporal!” Eren grinned, wiping his blades on the side of his pants. “I figured out something I could beat you in!”

Levi cringed.

If Levi had learned one thing about Eren in the past six weeks, it was that the boy thirsted over competition. Didn’t matter if Eren liked the skill or not. Didn’t even matter if he was good at it.

It always came back to this.

“I’m getting real sick of your shit, brat,” Levi grumbled. “Go bother someone else.”

“But I’ve already beaten everyone else!” Eren pouted.

Levi lowered the mop, tugging the mask from his face so he could level the kid with a frosty glare. “You think you could beat me?”

“I know I could.”

“Oh?” Levi hummed, stepping right into the boy’s space, eyes glittering. “Name the challenge then.”

Eren swallowed.

“A staring contest.”

It was all Levi could do not to laugh right there in Eren’s face. A staring contest? “You’re on,” he deadpanned. “But if you lose, I’m making you scrub my boots with your toothbrush.”

“Good thing I won’t lose,” Eren grinned. “Ready?”

Levi blinked twice.

“Go.”

Green.

All Levi could see was green – a thousand shades of it, painted before him with delicate, brilliant strokes. As they drew closer, the light would catch the tiny filaments, firing them with yellow and gold like tiny, burning streaks of sunshine.

How had he not seen this before? Eren’s eyes had frozen him in place, sending shivers skittering down his spine. He could only stand in muted awe as they moved closer and closer, swallowing up the world around him until all he could see was –

The touch of something soft against his lips made Levi jump back in alarm, a hand flying to the spot where the boy had planted a gentle, teasing kiss.

Eren was grinning ear-to-ear. “Told you I could do it.”

“You cheated!” Levi hissed. “You cheeky shit.”

“Never said I couldn’t,” Eren retorted, green eyes gleaming in the afternoon light as the boy took in the burn that flushed across Levi’s cheeks. “Do I get a prize for winning?”

A prize for - ?

Levi snatched Eren’s collar in his hand and leaned in close, close enough to see the gold return to the boy’s eyes once again.

“Looking for a prize, brat?”

Eren nodded, and leaned down to close the distance in silent celebration.


	5. Wooing You

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Post-Canon. Levi spends a day spoiling Eren, but... he's awkward about it. Surprise, surprise.
> 
> Written as a belated birthday drabble for [therenyeager](http://therenyeager.tumblr.com/). Happy birthday, lovely!

Eren dreamed of breakfast.

Not just any breakfast either – eggs. Fresh eggs, sunny-side up and cooked to perfection, like only Mother could. The scent swirled together with the smell of bread baking in the oven, and the crisp, mouthwatering trace of…

_Bacon._

The dream came to a sudden end when someone rapped him sharply between the brows with a knuckle.

“Oi.”

Eren woke with a start. “C-Corporal?”

“If you drool on the pillows, I’ll make you clean them.”

Lance Corporal... Levi Ackerman... was _sitting at the foot of his bed_. Perched like an owl, actually, with an owlish, unreadable look in his eyes, and a tray in his hands, plates piled high with…

Eggs. Scrambled, golden, and piping hot, framed with three thick slices of bacon and two pieces of buttered toast.

“Wha… what is all this?” Eren choked out.

Levi studied the tray briefly, his glance falling on the misted glass of orange liquid in the corner of the tray. “I believe Hanji called that juice,” he muttered, setting the tray on Eren’s lap without further explanation. “Served better chilled, or so I’m told. So drink up.”

Eren stared at the man, dumbstruck. “But… where did you get all this?” Even with the war over, rations were still incredibly tight, especially with expeditions to prepare for. So how…?

Levi simply prodded his forehead again, before rising and stalking off with his usual indifference. “Eat it, brat. Some knowledge isn't worth dying for.”

And almost as if he could feel Eren’s stunned stare digging into his shoulders, he continued, “And even if you survived - unlikely - you’d still be a mess. So just eat.”

He stalked off without another word.

* * *

For Eren, the rest of the day passed in a blur of confusion.

The new uniform straps could’ve been left in his locker by anyone – though how anyone had learned that he’d needed a set without him telling them so was beyond him.

He shrugged into them without a second thought.

…And perhaps his horse had been groomed by an enthusiastic new recruit. After the role he’d played in bringing about the fall of the titans, Eren had discovered he had more than a few admirers, though they’d never been so effusive in the past. Cleaning the stable had to be a new height for showing affection.

Eren did his best to convince himself that the unusually small footprints only appeared so small because of how the hay was laid. He tried even harder not to think about getting laid in said hay.

…And anyone could have gone on a gear-cleaning kick recently – though, try as he might, he couldn’t name many people who were willing to pry through the meticulously assembled machinery to oil the gears and clean the debris from the cables.

He could only think of one – one who happened to sneak sliding looks with darting gray eyes in his direction whenever Eren crossed his path. All. Damn. Day.

It made Eren’s heart flop.

* * *

_What could he be up to?_

The thought ate away at Eren’s mind all afternoon.

He’d liked Levi for a while now. It had been a quiet thing; he had fallen for the long, fire-lit night watches and the stark words and the way those hands felt when they snatched him back to humanity. To him, Levi sounded like comfort, felt like safety, and Eren never had a chance. He had fallen in love with Levi in the same way he’d fallen in love with the ocean – chasing a beautiful dream he never imagined coming true.

So _this_ – this was _terrifying._

Because this almost made Eren wonder if… but no…

There were some dreams that would always stay dreams.

* * *

“Oi. Eren.”

Eren froze. The sound of Levi’s voice did strange things to his heart. Tension prickled down his shoulders, curling his fist towards his heart in a salute he could not pin back.

So he was more than a little unprepared for the cool fingers that wrapped around his and held his hand there, his pulse pounding traitorously beneath Levi’s touch.

“Do you know why I’m doing this?”

_Do I know why you’re…?_ “No, sir,” Eren whispered. Even to his ears, his voice sounded odd. Strangled, almost. He swallowed.

“Do you know what day it is?” Levi asked calmly. His face betrayed nothing, not the slightest hint of emotion, except for an errant gleam in those steel eyes that somehow made Eren’s throat grow dry.

“Err… Tuesday?”

Levi stared.

Eren flinched.

“No,” he finally replied.

As the questions rang dizzily around Eren’s mind, Levi glanced off to the side with a dismissive huff, looking suddenly, incredibly…

“Today is the day I decided to woo you.”

… _bashful?_

With his hand still over Eren’s racing heart, Levi smiled. 

“And it’s worked surprisingly well.”


	6. Jump Scare

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Modern!AU - based of a prompt meme for the one-line prompt "I'll never un-see that..."
> 
> Eren's habit gets him in trouble.
> 
> Reincarnation!AU - a little fluff for whatever your fluff needs may be, with a twinge of reincarnation.
> 
> ...because 'Jump Scare' wasn't long enough to publish alone.

#### Jump Scare

If there was one thing Levi hated, it was Eren’s habit to shower late at night. 

He remembered his college days of course, he knew what the hours were like - the late nights at the library, the movie marathons with Armin and Mikasa, the parties every now and again - late nights were a part of the college experience. 

…But did he really have to shower at 3:30AM? 

Even Levi had his limits. 

"Eren,” Levi grumbled as the young man flicked the lights of and slipped beneath the sheets, skin still steaming from the shower. He didn’t even want to look at the clock - the thought of having to wake up in a few hours made him cringe. “For the last time: if you’re dirty at 3AM… Sleep on the couch." 

Eren chuckled. "It’s your fault I started the habit, you should be pleased with yourself. Cleanliness is next to holiness, or so they say." 

"Well-timed cleanliness is next to holiness. Nothing is holy about three in the fucking morning." 

"Should’ve thought about that before you insisted on showers before bed,” Eren murmured, wrapping an arm around Levi’s chest and curling in close. Levi could feel Eren’s smile pressed against his shoulder. 

“I’m beginning to regret it." 

"Can’t stop it now." 

"You’d better." 

"Mmmm…” Eren hummed. “Make me." 

”…If you insist.“ 

Eren insisted.

The next time Levi heard the front door open at 3AM, he was ready. 

It had been movie night - Eren’s monthly tradition with Armin and Mikasa. And movie night in October? Had to be horror movies. Levi could almost smell the popcorn on Eren as he crept into the bedroom, lay his belongings on the floor, and tiptoed into the shower. He lay as still as possible as the younger man went through his nightly routine - the toilet flushed, the electric toothbrush whirred, and then - 

The shower. 

A wicked grin stretched across Levi’s face. 

The movie of the night was ‘The Grudge’ trilogy. Eren had told him so a week in advance - he had been excited for it, it was one they hadn’t seen yet. 

But Levi had. 

And the look was far too simple to recreate. Quiet as a mouse, Levi slipped out of bed and fished the bag from the back of his sock drawer. The white body-powder went on easily, as did the long, stringy wig from the costume store, and the eye makeup just had to be thick and black… When he was finished, he threw a pair of socks at the door. 

"Levi?" 

Levi said nothing - and the shower continued. 

When he heard the water shut off, Levi ran his fingers down the wood, the sound sending shivers down his spine as he did. He heard a clatter as Eren jumped, sending whatever was in his hand skittering across the tile. "L-Levi?” Eren asked again. This time, he was nervous. 

So Levi slammed his fist against the door, and in a running sprint, leaped behind the bed just before Eren opened the bathroom door and peered blindly into the darkness. 

“Get in bed, brat,” Levi grumbled, hoping that he sounded like he still had his faced buried in a pillow. “You’re making a racket." 

"Oh, r-right,” Eren murmured, clearly shaken. “Good, it’s just you… I thought for sure…" 

” _Thought you heard something else?!_ “ Levi hissed, lunging from the shadows at Eren with a freakish growl. 

Eren _shrieked_. Levi thought he heard glass shatter from somewhere.

And Levi devolved into a fit of breathless, unstoppable giggles. “Oh god, love, your face!” he howled, curling up on the bed and slapping a hand on the mattress as Eren sank numbly to his knees, staring at the carpet in muted shock.

“Okay, Levi,” Eren choked. “You win. No more night-time showers. I’ll never un-see that.”

Remembering Eren's look of terror, Levi didn't think he'd un-see that either.

* * *

#### Goodnight

_Tip-tip-tip._

It's the sound of a slender finger tapping at the glass of the window of his little first floor apartment. 

_Who?_

_Eren_. He's standing outside, a bike leaning against his leg as a summery evening breeze tugs playfully at his dark hair. 

“You rode here?” Levi asks, staring in surprise.

Eren nods. The smile on his face, quiet and radiant all at once, makes Levi’s heart stutter.

"But… It's a ten mile ride.”

"I came for a kiss goodnight," Eren says quietly.

How could Levi refuse?

Levi pulls Eren close, breathing in the sweetness and the salt of his scent, feel the warmth of Eren’s skin beneath his gentle fingertips. The bike clatters to the floor and Eren is his, wrapped in his embrace.

Eren brushes his nose against his boyfriend’s jaw and his lips meet Levi’s carefully – so carefully it aches. Hadn’t they waited long enough, waited for so many lifetimes? But now Levi cannot move Levi stares wide-eyed as he does it, not wanting to miss a single moment. The fading sunset fills those brilliant green eyes on fire. Eren feels his smile.

"Goodnight, Levi," he whispers as he pulls away.

_I love you_. The silent words echo endlessly in the night wind, pressing gently to his cheeks and the corners of his lips and the shadows beneath his eyes. Levi feels them there - he always does. Everything Eren does seems to ring with those three little words.

It lights him from the inside out.

And maybe... maybe it lit Levi too.

Levi doesn't let go. "Stay,” he murmurs. “Just for tonight. Please." 

So Eren does.  



	7. Chiaroscuro & Partition

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> chiaroscuro - n. - the use of deep variations in and subtle gradations of light and shade.
> 
> Biker!Eren AU - Eren and motorbikes in lonely places. 
> 
> For [cinnamonskull](http://cinnamonskull.tumblr.com/)
> 
> Modern!AU where Eren's at club and Levi sings Beyonce. Stuff happens.

#### Chiaroscuro

The desert is a hellish place.

If Eren is quiet, he can feel the sand lashing at his skin, hear the wind moan breathlessly as the engine purrs. Smell the heat of sweat and gasoline beneath the afterglow of the sun’s peak. The air shimmers with unfilled need.

Maybe that’s why he came here.

It’s the perfect place for tearing the road apart, perfect for chasing after dreams that have no dark side – for here, the shadows burn and die beneath a white hot sun. The desert is no place for twilight whispers, or the touch of frosted stars upon his skin.

Freedom should taste like sand, not midnight kisses.

It’s too hot to breathe and he doesn’t care. The heat of the day lights fires along the edges of his mind. The desert is his crucible and the desert sun his flame, purifying him of all thoughts concerning cool nights and dark eyes.

Or so he hopes.

He races onward, carving a path between the desert and the sun, hoping the inferno will burn away the memories of dusky passions and the pale smile of a crooked moon.

He scowls when he knows it will never be enough.

This fire could not satisfy him – and he knows that nothing else will. Because, in spite of everything, Eren longs for the stretch of pale curves and lonely places, aches for the bite of a chill upon his cheeks, the touch of the night wind running fingers through his hair. No fire could ever free him from the hunger for the same cold stare that drove him here in the first place.

Chasing after those gray eyes is like trying to outrun the stars – it only works when he’s beneath the sun and burning.

#### Partition 

It was the kind of scene that crackled through his veins like lightning.

Eren strode across the dance floor beneath the dizzying lights, his body quickly falling prey to the throbbing bass and the music that snaked through it, winding around him with the tempting promise of a freedom found nowhere else.

It was Eren Jaeger’s birthday and the club was wild.

Of course, that also meant the club was packed, and when surrounded by such a crowd, it was all too easy to make one wrong step and –

_Slam!_

The stranger collided with Eren before he even had the chance to move.

“Oi, watch it,” the stranger growled.

Watch it? The freaking nerve – “I don’t know if you noticed,” Eren hissed, whirling to give the stranger a piece of his mind, “but _you_ were the one who ran into _me_ , so if you have a problem…”

The words died on his lips.

Those gray eyes, hooded beneath the shifting lights, held Eren frozen in their thrall, the weight of their attention so physical Eren could almost feel its touch as the stranger traced over him with nothing less than hunger. 

“Oh, believe me,” the man smirked, his eyes trailing down Eren’s body with obvious approval, “it’s no problem at all.”

And with that he turned, and vanished in the throng.

It took Eren a moment before his mind unfroze.

He had to find that man. But though he scoured the writhing crowds, the stranger had well and thoroughly disappeared – and well and thoroughly rattled him.

“Hey,” he said, turning to the woman nearest to him, “did you see…?”

The stage lights went out, plunging the club into darkness as the rhythm changed, shifting into a tempered pace that curled across his skin in a heated, sultry pulse.

_“Driver roll up the partition please…”_

Fire tongued down Eren’s spine as the voice, _that_ voice, gripped him thoroughly and pinned him to the wall, promising paradise – or at the very least, a good time.

_Oh._

The spotlight flared to life, slicing through the darkness to illuminate the visage of the stranger on the stage.

“Ladies and gentleman… Levi Ackerman.”

_“Driver roll up the partition please, I don’t need you seeing my toy on his knees.”_

There he was, strutting down the stage as if he owned the world – and in that moment, he did.

_“Took forty five minutes to get all dressed up – we ain’t even gonna make it to this club.”_

Eren ached. The sight of Levi’s hand sliding down that crisp, black shirt, over lines Eren knew hid taut curves and hard edges that just begged to be… well. The lyrics fell from Levi’s mouth in fervent whispers, low and dark as he looked out to scan the crowd.

Searching.

_“Now my mascara’s running, red lipstick smudged… Ooh, he’s so horny now he wants to –”_

The smile that edged across the Levi’s lips made Eren burn.

_“He bucked all my buttons, he ripped my blouse…”_

Levi danced like an apparition, twisting hypnotically around himself as the music cast the spell. Eren felt his throat go dry as he watched Levi’s hips rock back and forth, his fingers edging along the top of his pants.

_“Oh, baby, baby, we slow it down…”_

Eren knew the instant Levi caught him in the crowd – he felt the electricity between them as recognition flashed across his face and the offer was posed.

_“Take all… of me,”_ Levi sang, bracing himself against the mic-stand, swinging off the stage and striding right up to Eren. 

_“I just wanna be the guy you like.”_

The microphone was the only thing keeping Eren from biting into those lips right then and there as Levi’s hand knotted into Eren’s collar.

_“The kind of guy you like is right here with me.”_

Eren had never felt so thoroughly wrecked.

But as the handsome stranger pulled away, promises flickering in the wicked curl of his smile, a dangerous idea presented itself to Eren.

This Levi Ackerman guy wasn’t the only one who knew how to attract attention.

Eren smirked, feeling the heat settle in his bones.

Two could play at this game.

 


	8. Vellichor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> vellichor - n. - the strange wistfulness of used bookstores, that quiet sort of wonder that fills a heart at the sight of yellowed pages and weathered spines and dreams caught in ink between dusty covers.
> 
> Modern!AU.
> 
> For [missmichellebelle](http://missmichellebelle.tumblr.com/).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> O_O I'm sorry ~ this isn't new, I'm just reorganizing.

After a day like this one, it was only fitting that it started to rain.

Murphy’s Law, right? Flinching as the droplets stung at his face, Eren clutched the envelope with his manuscript closer to his chest to protect it from the storm-blown rain.

Not that it needed protection anymore. The work had been all but ripped to shreds.

With nowhere else to go, Eren stepped quickly underneath the sparse cover of the awning above the closest shop, pressing almost flush against the faded door in an effort to escape the rain. Needless to say, that failed too – he tumbled inside with a squawk and the flutter of loose papers.

A bell chimed quietly overhead.

_A bookshop_ , Eren realized, taking in his new surroundings – the polished old shelves lined with regal spines and faded titles, the stacks of books with yellowing pages, the muted hush that swallowed the sound dying on his lips – with a growing sense of quiet wonder. Silence felt like a living thing here, something that rose from the shelves and shadowed corners and settled softly across his shoulders in a dusky haze, not to be disturbed.

He straightened slowly. Moving as if caught in a dream, he wandered forward, his scattered manuscript forgotten on the floor as the spell took hold.

The air shimmered with the scent of paper and the hollow echo of his footsteps. To Eren, the sounds were distant – he was far away, flying high above the lives contained in the books whose spines he traced with a reverent touch. Old, fabric-bound, hardcover copies with proud titles and faded covers. Bruised paperbacks with vanilla-scented pages and the errant crinkles of loving hands. So many stories, like windows into so many worlds he may never get the chance to see.

He was happy they existed though.

It was places like this that drove him to the pages of empty notebooks, chasing stories out of their secret places with ink-stained fingers, eager to follow them wherever they ran. He could almost see himself, tucked away in some abandoned corner, seated on the pillows of the window nook where the sun streamed bright and warm and clear. Surrounded, always surrounded, by tales that he would take apart piece by piece and reassemble somewhere deep within him, to carry with him always.

_“There is a point, before you fall, where you can still stop yourself.”_

The words shivered through the quiet like the first kiss of winter, both unexpected and familiar all at once. Eren jumped at the sound.

_“A point, a single moment, where you can fight gravity.”_

He moved without thinking, searching for the low voice whose caress had shaken him from his reverie.

He knew those words. They were his.

_“Where you can throw your entire being into lurching the other direction as fast and as hard as you possibly can…”_

The floorboards protested beneath the weight of his footsteps which drew heavy sighs from the old wood of the floorboards as Eren followed the voice threading through the bookshelves, soft and low and thoughtful as it coaxed the words from pages he had left behind.

_“…and still win.”_

The shopkeeper looked up when he heard Eren’s approach.

“This yours?” he asked, motioning to the papers on the floor with the mug in his hand. Eren could clearly see where the man had stopped trying to straighten up the mess and started reading; the loose-leaf pages sat in neat piles by the doorway, errant heaps along the single stair, and a single page curved gently over his fingers, its contents still ringing softly in Eren’s ears.

Eren nodded.

“It’s… nice,” the man replied, his brow furrowing quickly. “Certainly didn’t deserve the red-pen treatment, as far as I could see.”

The nametag clipped to his apron read, ‘Levi.’

“Thanks,” Eren whispered.

Levi frowned. “Didn’t deserve to be dumped on my floor either.”

Eren’s cheeks stung. “Ah - no, right,” he said, scrambling for the papers nearest him. “Let me…”

A hand on his shoulder stopped him short.

“Don’t,” Levi murmured. “That can come later. Right now, tea.” He motioned with his mug again. “You’ve looked like you’ve needed a cup since you walked in.”

“You knew I was here?”

Levi’s lips quirked – not quite a smile, but close. “Of course,” he chuckled, casting a glance up at the bell over the door. “But I didn’t want to disturb.”

And his eyes grew soft and his gaze grew distant as he looked past Eren to all the worlds he had collected – carried in and sheltered when they’d passed from other hands. The smile that wasn’t quite a smile turned fond.

“You had the _look_.”

And Eren smiled, because he knew.


	9. Priceless

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shmoopy married husbands.
> 
> Modern!AU.
> 
> For Shulkie.

As soon as he stepped into the apartment, Eren _knew._

All the lights in the apartment were off, blinds drawn against the evening’s fading light, and the apartment was quiet. If he had been living with anyone else, Eren would’ve immediately assumed that no one was home – but Eren knew better.

“Levi?” Eren called, toeing out of his shoes and hanging his jacket on the coat-rack next to his husband’s. The answering groan came from the direction of the kitchen. Eren padded over.

Levi lay hunched over the table, his head in his arms. He groaned again as Eren turned the kitchen light on, illuminating the scattered stacks of lab reports he had apparently been reading over before crashing where he sat.

“Hey there, babe,” Eren said softly. 

It took a moment, but Levi finally looked up, meeting Eren’s gentle smile with a grimace of his own. The wrinkles of his shirt sleeve had left red imprints along the side of his face, and Eren barely resisted the urge to run his fingers through the dark strands of mussed up hair. “What time is it,” he muttered, his voice low and hoarse from disuse.

“Almost dinner time,” Eren murmured. “You want anything?”

“…coffee,” Levi grumbled after a moment.

Eren chuckled. “You don’t even like coffee, love,” he replied.

If the words registered in Levi’s mind, he made no move to show it. Instead, he looked back to the reports spread across the table, his gaze bleary and distant as he seemed to stare not at the papers, but through them.

Eren sat down at the table and rested his hand on top of Levi’s. “Penny for your thoughts?”

Levi blinked. “My thoughts?” he asked, trying the words on his tongue as he fought exhaustion to focus. “My thoughts,” he said again, more firmly, “are a buck a piece.”

Eren paused for a moment, smiling gently. “Alright then,” he replied.

And without a word, he stood and left.

Levi looked back at the papers. The reports over the semester’s final chemistry lab had turned out to be enormous – but that didn’t change the fact that the final grades would be expected by the last day of class. _Sixteen more to go,_ he thought wearily to himself. Hanji had been wrong; working as a teaching assistant at the university organic chem labs was a _terrible_ way to pay for graduate school. Yawning deeply and rubbing his eyes, he moved to grab the next report and his pen – but he startled at the sound of a loud rattle from behind him. He turned.

Eren stood in the middle of their tiny kitchen, silhouetted by the thin beam of the overhead light as he hunched over a large, five-gallon water jug, filled with coins.

“I’ve been saving this for something special,” Eren murmured, grinning up at Levi as he staggered over to the kitchen table, jug in hand. “I was thinking we could go somewhere nice after you graduate, so I just…”

 _“Got any spare change?”_ The first words Eren had ever spoken to Levi, back when the two of them had been in high school. He’d forgotten what Eren had been saving for at the time, but it didn’t really matter – animal shelters, kid’s camp scholarships, library donations, walk-a-thons – he was always saving for something. Always had a cause. Levi stared wordlessly at the jug as Eren sat beside him. 

The coins were only a little away from the top. 

“But a buck a piece for thoughts like yours,” Eren continued, “…now that’s too good to pass up. I’ll take everything.” 

Eren looked up and smiled.

“I hope this is enough.”


	10. Somewhere Along the Way

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A Martial Arts AU.

“Oi! Jean!”

Jean looked up from the sparring gear he was cleaning and sighed. Master Shadis had only just stepped out, leaving the students of Trost Taekwondo to clean and pack up after the evening class, but Eren was already fuming, leveling a heated stare at him from across the mat.

Jean couldn’t say he hadn’t expected it though.

“What now, Eren?” Jean called. Though he sounded genuinely annoyed – he was – he couldn’t resist a grin as Eren drew closer.

“What was that move you pulled in practice earlier?” Eren snapped. Anger rolled off him in waves, sending some of the younger students scurrying as he passed.

“Why?” Jean asked, setting his gear aside slowly, laying the gloves beside the helmet and the practice guards side by side, each movement thoughtful and precise - if only to piss Eren off further. “Want me to teach it to you?”

“No,” Eren growled, “because it felt an awful lot like cheating.”

“Cheating?” Jean scoffed. “What makes you think I’d have to cheat against you?”

“I nearly had you in a pin, and you tapped so I could let off - and you pulled that shit instead!”

“You’re crazy. No way in hell I’d tap out to you.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Eren demanded.

“It means,” Jean began, rising to his feet in a single, fluid movement, “that I know the only reason you think I’m cheating is because you don’t know how to beat me.”

Some of the other students, having heard the exchange and knowing exactly what would come of it, decided to move out of the way, before things got too far.

“You wanna go, Kirchstein?”

“You think you can handle it, Jaeger?” Jean mocked.

More often than not, practices at Trost Taekwondo had a way of ending with its two most senior students in the center of the mat, wearing sparring gear and fierce scowls, tension crackling like thunder between them.

“The usual stakes?” Jean asked.

“Of course,” Eren replied, slipping his mouth guard over his teeth.

Jean’s grin grew wider. “Hey, guys, you hear that?” he called over his shoulder, eying the students who lagged behind. “Eren’s offered to clean the mats – be sure to thank him on your way out.”

No one had the guts to further infuriate the older student, - they all cleared out quickly, packing uniforms and gear into duffle bags and scurrying out the door.

Eren and Jean began as they always did – their hands held out in front of them, fists wrapped in thick gloves, marking the distance between them and planning their steps. Nodding when ready.

And it ended as it always had, with Eren alone on the practice floor, scrubbing the sweat from the mats.

 

* * *

 

When Armin returned from his morning errands the next day, the apartment was dark.

Still.

Armin sighed. Laden, as he was, with heavy grocery bags in each hand, the light switches were just a little too far out of his reach. His arms were already shaking – maybe he would take Annie up on that offer to meet at the gym. But that wouldn’t help him now. He stumbled to the kitchenette, feeling his way along and still managing to bang his hip on the kitchen table before setting the bags on the narrow counter with a groan.

“Dammit Eren,” Armin muttered. It could only have been him – Mikasa had left early to go lend a hand at the shelter, leaving Eren to hold down the fort and do responsible, adult-like things. Do the dishes. Pay the water bill. Something.

He continued to grumble under his breath as he reached around blindly for the light-switch, rubbing a thumb over the soon-to-be-bruise, and when he finally found what he was looking for he flipped the lights on without mercy.

There was a loud bang and a muffled shout, and then Eren peeked out blearily from beneath the blankets draped over the coffee table.

“Hey there, sunshine,” Armin snickered. “You look like you had a nice night.”

Eren groaned, flinging an arm over his face to shield himself.

That bad, huh? Armin thought to himself, giving in - just a little bit. He wandered into the living room, knelt by the coffee table, and lifted a blanket to peer inside.

The small space was lit by a flashlight and the too-bright glare of the laptop screen, which cast flickering shadows off the nest of pillows and popcorn-bags as the movie played on, unwatched. Armin could see nine or ten tabs open, each one labeled in a foreign language.

“Keeping busy, I see,” he remarked.

“I have done nothing but watch imported taekwondo movies since 7PM last night,” Eren said simply.

Armin stared, quickly crunching the numbers. “But that’s… 16 hours of movies, Eren, what the hell were you thinking?”

Before Armin could get the words out fully, Eren groaned again and shook his head, burying his face in the pillows.

“Shh, shh… too fast,” he mumbled. “I can only understand Korean right now.”

“Do I even want to ask why?” Armin muttered. Letting the blankets fall back to the floor, he stood back up and eyed his roommate with pursed lips.

Eren’s legs, in all their Batman-pajama-pants glory, stuck out from beneath the coffee table, and Armin moved to grab a slippered foot in each hand and pulled. “Come on out,” he said, throwing all his weight into dragging his friend out of hiding. “Time to come back to humanity.”

“Don’t wanna,” Eren grumbled.

It mattered little. Eventually – thanks to a titanic effort on Armin’s part – the two roommates sat around the kitchen table, Eren nursing a coffee while Armin waited for the tea-kettle to whistle.

“He beat you again?”

“Don’t remind me,” Eren muttered, downing the rest of the coffee and pouring himself another cup. “I’ve done everything – worked my butt off in every class, went to the gym, I mean, Armin,” he looked up, and his eyes were haggard and wide with horror, “I even tried running with Mikasa. At 5:30 in the morning.”

Armin shuddered.

“I’ve been trying to beat him for eight months.”

“Why?”

“The belt test,” Eren sighed. “We’re both eligible to test for the next rank, but I’m not ready – I won’t be until I can take him in a fight.”

“And you can’t?” Armin asked.

Eren shot a sour look at him. “Clearly.”

He was going to say more when the door opened and Mikasa walked in, carrying an armful of t-shirts and a bag full of paint. “Hey guys,” she called, dropping the t-shirts on the living room sofa, “sorry I’m… woah.”

She looked Eren over carefully, noting his haggard expression and the pale shadows brushed below his eyes, before turning questioningly to Armin, who threw his hands in the air. “Don’t look at me,” he said. “That’s all self-inflicted.”

“Ahh…” she nodded, understanding.

“I lost again,” Eren griped. “I don’t even know how he’s doing it. I’ve seen Jean in class and I know I can match him – maybe even outclass him – but as soon as we start to spar…”

Mikasa settled into a chair, pouring herself a cup of coffee and listening thoughtfully as Eren recalled the last fight.

“You know what?” she said finally, when Eren had run out of steam. “This isn’t a skill thing.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Eren demanded. “How could this be anything but a skill thing – that’s literally what the class is for.”

“No, listen,” she interrupted. “I know how you fight. And I’ve seen Jean fight, at your belt tests. And when it comes down to it, with techniques, you’re the better fighter.”

“I would hope so,” Eren muttered. “I bust my ass for those techniques.”

“I know,” Mikasa replied. “And I wouldn’t be surprised if Jean knew too.”

Eren leaned down far enough to rest his chin on the table, his brows knit tightly as he processed, the caffeine finally beginning to zip through his veins. “So… you think he’s fighting to avoid that?”

Mikasa nodded. “You fight hard. He fights smart.”

“You’ve got to find a way to throw him off his game,” Armin cut in, rising to his feet as the teapot began to whistle. “Catch him off guard.”

“Exactly,” Mikasa agreed. “You need a different edge.”

“Something new, maybe?” Armin suggested, settling back down at the table, tea in hand. The warm scent of cardamom and allspice filled the air. “Something he won’t expect?”

All at once, Eren sat upright, his hands smacking against the tabletop in excitement, making Armin jump and causing the cups to rattle. “I can do ‘new,’” he said. A determined grin spread across his face. “I have an idea.”

 

* * *

 

This was not his idea.

The next weekend found Eren standing outside a small business complex a little ways outside of town, trying to peer through the tinted glass for a glimpse of the martial art class that was supposedly about to start inside. “Aikido of the Rose Wall,” the sign above the door read. The sign below read, “Make friends and throw them!”

Eren groaned.

When he had decided to try learning a new style, this wasn’t exactly what he had meant. He and Armin had spent several hours picking apart the pros and cons of grappling styles versus throwing styles as they watched videos of rank tests and seminars - Eren had quickly taken a liking to krav maga.

Mikasa had peered out through her bedroom door and ended that conversation with a curt, “no.”

Aikido, on the other hand, had been near the bottom of his list.

“How is this even real?” Eren had griped, watching a video of an old master in a pair of big black pants flinging his students all over the mat without any apparent effort. “This looks like a bad martial arts movie.”

“It says aikido students learn to use an attacker’s energy against them in order to find a peaceful resolution to conflict,” Armin read, perusing a website he had found as he sipped his third cup of tea.

“Sounds like voodoo to me,” Eren had grumbled.

“It can’t be voodoo, Eren, it’s Japanese.”

Eren wasn’t convinced. In the video, the instructor was knocking students over with a wave of his arms, barely acknowledging them as they toppled to the floor and rolled out of the way.

“Plus,” Armin went on, “it’s a throwing style, which would be a good change of pace from all the strikes you’ve learned in taekwondo – maybe you’ll learn something useful.”

“Yeah, like how to politely ask my opponent to tap out for me,” Eren had muttered, quickly closing out of the video tab and moving on to the next style on his list.

“You never know,” Armin had replied. “It looks like it might be worth a shot.”

Eren hadn’t believed it at the time, but it seemed as though he’d be finding out soon enough - as it turned out, the bustling city of Trost only had three different martial arts studios: his taekwondo dojang, a tai chi class down at Forest Acres Retirement Community (which was an automatic ‘no’), and the aikido dojo just outside of town.

Eren had not been pleased.

The air was cool when he stepped inside, letting the door close behind him as the chime of an overhead bell announced his arrival – though to whom, Eren wasn’t sure. The entry room was empty and sparsely decorated, just a desk and a few chairs, and on the wall, a simple scroll. Down the hall, Eren could see a window, and through it, students getting ready for the class to start; tying belts around white uniforms, stretching, or tumbling across the floor at their leisure. As far as he could tell, he couldn’t find any of those odd black pants – at the very least, he meant to find out what they were before moving on to a different style. He had a sinking feeling that told him aikido really wasn’t going to be his thing.

“Can I help you?”

Eren jumped. He hadn’t even heard the blond man approach, but looking at him there was no way he shouldn’t have seen him coming – this wasn’t the kind of person who managed to walk into a room unseen.

“Erwin Smith,” the man introduced himself, reaching out with his left hand for an unorthodox handshake – his right arm was hidden beneath the uniform draped casually over his shoulder.

Eren swallowed the urge to ask right then and there about the funny pants as he awkwardly returned the gesture.

“I teach here,” Erwin continued. “Are you looking for classes?”

Eren shook his head quickly. “No, just hoping to watch, if that’s okay.”

“Thinking of starting?” Erwin asked. As he spoke, he leaned to the side to readjust the equipment bag in his arms. Eren could hear the sound of something wooden clattering inside.

“Not exactly,” Eren replied, trying not to wince at the memory of why he was here - or at the fact that he was here in the first place.

But he was here now, so he would make the most of it. He swallowed. “I’m looking to get better at my own style,” he said firmly. “So I came here to learn something new.”

“Oh, a real strategist,” Erwin murmured, eying Eren thoughtfully. “Well, we’ve certainly got a place for you here - why don’t you come give it a shot?

 

* * *

 

They began with breathing exercises - breathing exercises, you’ve gotta be kidding… - followed by a series of wrist stretches so elaborate Eren began to wonder if he’d stepped into a rehearsal for a Bollywood movie dance scene. He couldn’t even be sure if he was doing them right - though by the odd looks he was getting from some of the other students, he probably wasn’t.

He had no time to catch up, however. The pace of the class was relentless, each of the exercises flowing smoothly into the next until the instructor finally finished with the warm ups. “Alright, everyone please form a line along the end of the mat for ukeme practice,” Erwin called. “Small forward rolls, small backward rolls, standing forward rolls, standing backwards rolls. Whenever you’re ready.”

“Yes, sensei!”

The terms flew right over Eren’s head. “Uh, Mr. Erwin, sir?” Sensei? “Sensei?”

“Eren, right?”

He whirled - the voice came from behind him and the speaker was close, so close Eren nearly smacked right into them when he turned, narrowly avoiding knocking off the rim of the thick-framed goggles wrapped smartly around their head with elastic. They studied him with unbridled enthusiasm, their eyes bright and bugged behind the thick lenses.

“Come on, Hanji, give him room!”

Hanji pulled back. “Aww, come on Petra,” they teased. “I just wanted to meet the newbie. It’s been awhile since we’ve had anyone new to throw around.”

“Who says you’ll be throwing me around?” Eren asked, indignant.

The other student, Petra, laughed. “Well, it’s aikido,” she replied. The way she said it made it sound as though it were the only answer Eren would need. “Everyone gets thrown around here, it’s part of the fun.”

Eren frowned.

“We’re here to make sure you learn how to get thrown safely,” Hanji added. “Teach you the ropes - or the rolls, so to speak. It’s simple physics, really. Do you like physics, Eren?”

“Uh… is it a prerequisite or something?” Eren’s only memories of physics came from the class he had been required to take in college and they were far from pleasant.

“No, it isn’t,” Petra said firmly.

“It should be,” Hanji muttered.

“But learning how to roll and fall safely is,” Petra added, looking to Eren, “and that’s what we’ll be working on first. This way, Eren.”

Hanji and Petra led him to the corner of the mat, bombarding him with the details - and the physics - of the falling techniques. Shoulder to opposite hip. Drop the outside foot. Be sure to tuck your head. It takes only nine pounds of force to snap a joint, Hanji added.

Eren wasn’t sure if they were asking him to perform an ukeme or a biomechanics experiment, but surely it couldn’t be too hard to lean his body forward, tuck his head under, and roll.

“Oh,” Hanji stared, the physics lessons suddenly cutting short. “Well what do you know.”

It had been far from perfect, Eren knew - some of the muscles in his neck protested, and the sore spots on his shoulder and his back told him he rolled a lot more like a brick than a wheel but…

“He’s not half bad,” Petra noted.

“Not bad,” Hanji repeated, first with a scowl, then a snicker, and the two students laughed amongst themselves at some private joke.

Eren wasn’t paying attention. The first roll had been nothing special, but the second and the third got his blood pumping, his pulse kicking into a higher gear, if only by a little bit. There was something to this falling thing, he noticed, something that made it hard to keep the smile off his face - and he did try - as he snapped forward and then stood, all aches forgotten as he turned to Hanji and Petra.

“What’s next?” he asked.

Next was backwards, Eren discovered, and they were harder and the standing falls were harder still - sloppiness was easy, but precision was elusive, and try as he might, it was next to impossible to get the clean, effortless moves Eren had seen in all those videos.

“Looking good, champ.”

“Not good enough,” Eren muttered. He was surprised to find that the words came hard for him - he was actually out of breath and sweat beaded at his temples and along his upper lip.

“You’ll get there,” Petra replied, handing him a towel. “It’s not as easy as some people make it look - experience or no. It took me months before I was able to do it passably.”

Eren’s heart sank. “Months?” This whole endeavor wouldn’t be worth much if it took months to get something out of it.

“Oh yeah,” Petra replied. “Aikido is really neat, but it’s… not something you can just pick up. It’s a new way to approach things.” She laughs when he seems a little down. “Don’t worry, I’m sure you’ll get the hang of things quickly.”

Eren wasn’t sure he agreed.

 

* * *

 

Though perfection was a far-flung hope, Eren managed to reach adequacy through sheer force of will, and when Petra and Hanji deemed him ready, he joined the line of students sitting at the front of the room waiting for the instructor to make a move.

“How do we know what we’re going to be doing?” Eren whispered. “He’s just standing there.”

“Shh!” Petra whispered. “Watch!”

Without a word, one of the students at the far end of the line shifted, leaning forward to bow, and then he rose to face the sensei.

“Who’s that?” Eren asked, eyeing the student cautiously.

“That’s Levi,” Petra answered. “He’s one of the advanced students. He helps Erwin-sensei with the demonstrations.”

“What’s with those pants?” Eren muttered.

“Hakama,” Petra corrected.

“Gesundheit,” Eren replied.

Petra giggled quietly. “They’re a part of the uniform once you reach a certain rank.”

“So if you get really good, you get to wear funny pants?”

“It’s a hakama!” she replied, “and shh!”

“For this technique,” Erwin began, “you’ll begin with a frontal attack.”

The student reached out, wrapping his fingers around the sensei’s wrist and catching him in a strong hold.

“Your opponent’s next objective is to strike at you in some way. A punch to the face, perhaps, or the ribs, or a kick of some sort.”

Eren watched as Levi demonstrated each of the attacks in turn. His control, Eren noted, was incredible - though each movement was slow, Levi’s aim never wavered, his technique finely focused and achingly precise.

“What’s important to your attacker is that they have you in a place where you are vulnerable,” Erwin explained. He didn’t bother defending against the strikes with his free hand - he let his student’s hits come unfettered, stopping only a hairsbreadth away from their targets.

Eren stifled a yawn.

“What’s important to you,” Erwin continued, “is that you get out of the way.”

They’re making this way too hard, Eren thought to himself, watching as the sensei went over the technique step by step, explaining every motion as he pulled the student off the line, ducked - deeply, Eren noticed with some amusement, seeing the height difference - underneath his arm, and swept around, tucking Levi’s hand into his own shoulder and casting him gently to the ground.

Eren’s amusement soured rather quickly as the student fell backwards with ease, kicking a leg out and over and performing a back roll so effortlessly he might not even have fallen at all.

Okay, so it works, he grumbled to himself. But there’s no way in hell I’d try to pull that in a real fight. This is martial arts, not ballroom dancing.

“And that’s the technique,” Erwin finished, nodding his thanks. “Take it slowly - it’s important to respect your partner’s safety as you take them through the fall - but eventually…”

Something in the sensei’s tone made Eren pull himself free from his thoughts and look up, but what drew his attention, Eren would never know.

Instead, his eyes were drawn to Levi’s face, to a look that flashed fire and steel and sent a wave of anticipation shivering down Eren’s spine. Levi’s weight shifted forward, and for the briefest of moments, he smiled.

“You’ll get to the point where it looks something like this.”

And then Levi was sprinting across the mat, hurling himself at Erwin with a ferocity that would’ve made a weaker man cringe. He caught Erwin’s hand in an iron grip and immediately went for a punch, aiming for the ribs.

Eren flinched, his left hand instinctively snapping up to shadow the block that Erwin should have done - would have done…

…had his left arm been there in the first place.

Eren’s jaw dropped.

Erwin quickly side-stepped, wrenching off the line of Levi’s attack to avoid the assault just in time. Levi’s punch snapped through nearly-empty space, coming in contact only with the empty sleeve of Erwin’s uniform, which whipped out behind him in a sharp white arc. In a flash, Erwin had ducked beneath Levi’s outstretched arm, spun around, and then he threw Levi with everything he had.

But Levi simply rolled backwards, kicking around to land right back on his feet and tear at Erwin again, attacking with a kind of energy Eren hadn’t seen in the demonstration videos.

If his eyes hadn’t been bugging nearly out of his head, he would’ve missed it.

“Traditionally,” Erwin said casually, not even winded by the exchange, “I would perform a kneeling pin and complete the technique by pinning Levi’s hand to the ground and exerting pressure on his elbow with my other hand but alas…” His words trailed off meaningfully.

The students chuckled.

“Any questions?”

Eren wasn’t even sure if he remembered how to breathe.

“Very well. Please take partners and practice.”

The line broke at once, students turning to one another to bow, each asking another to practice with an enthusiastic “onegaishimasu!”

At a word from the sensei, Levi looked to Eren.

Well, shit.

Someone nudged him in the ribs with their elbow. “You’re supposed to bow,” Hanji whispered, unable to contain their excitement.

Oh. Right.

Levi led Eren to the far corner of the mat, and then turned, extending a hand as he settled into his stance.

“Did you understand the technique?” Levi asked quietly.

“Yes,” Eren replied, too quickly. “I mean. Mostly.”

“Well, then.”

Eren grabbed the older student’s wrist, fingers sinking tightly into the clean strips of the wrapping wound around his hands.

Levi’s response was immediate, stepping sideways to drag Eren off center, catching his balance and spinning beneath his arm in a single fluid movement and slowing only to walk Eren through the fall.

He thinks he has to go easy on me, Eren realized, landing gracelessly and twisting back to his feet.

“Other side.”

Eren grinned, and offered a hand.

“The first thing you do in a situation like this,” Levi muttered, as if explaining it to himself instead of to Eren, “is to step off the line. Get out of the way.”

As he spoke, he performed the move, turning to the side to avoid attacks that weren’t coming as Eren passively followed along. “Catch your opponent’s elbow under yours, grab their wrist with both hands, and pull them forward so you can step - “

When Levi ducked beneath his arm, Eren pulled.

He felt the instant the older student staggered backwards, thrown off balance by the unexpected maneuver, and Eren, moving on instinct, whirled around to face him. Already, the gears in Eren’s mind were churning, working his way around the unfamiliar maneuver to find the next step, the next turn.

Levi’s palm caught him right on the chin, throwing him head over heels and sending him to the ground, the world briefly and suddenly knocked off its axis. Eren coughed as the air left his lungs all at once.

But once he was calm, the older student offered a hand.

“Next time,” he said dryly, “go with the flow of attack. You won’t run into my hand that way.”

“Right,” Eren nodded. His mind was already elsewhere, trying to wrap itself around the technique in a way he’d never thought of before, honing a new edge.

He grinned. “Can I try that again, please?”

“Of course,” Levi replied. “That’s what we’re here for.”

“Right.”

And suddenly, aikido didn’t seem like such a bad idea.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written for the 2015 Ereri Secret Santa.

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, readers!
> 
> Due to my tendency to procrastinate, I write an awful lot of little drabbles, one-shots, and short stories when I really should be working on other things, and after the stories started piling up, I decided I needed a place to put them all.
> 
> So, for your reading pleasure (hopefully), I will be compiling all unrelated Eren/Levi drabbles and posting them here as they are written, for all your Eren/Levi fluff needs. Heck, with a canon-verse as brutal as this one, we all need a little fluff sometimes.
> 
> Hope you enjoy! All feedback is lovingly appreciated!


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